


Leather and Spice

by whatabadchoice



Series: Tuesdays [12]
Category: Supernatural
Genre: Alpha Castiel (Supernatural), Alpha/Beta/Omega Dynamics, M/M, hotel au
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-03-18
Updated: 2017-03-18
Packaged: 2018-10-07 09:34:24
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,265
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/10357416
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/whatabadchoice/pseuds/whatabadchoice
Summary: The lock had clicked behind him and there was still that container. Castiel is torn between feeling deeply ashamed and deeply, deeply aroused.





	

**Author's Note:**

> This is just a tiiiiny update before the rest of the plot. I didn't really know where to put this scene cos it's pm gratuitous smut... and not even very good or long smut lol. But the next chapter will be better and hopefully wrap this up already!
> 
> ANYWHO thanks for all the nice comments, they actually kept me writing. For reals. Thanks to everyone for reading this unbeta'd mess :P

(still) JUNE 24TH (even later)

At least the bathroom is somewhat clean. Dean pleasured himself in here. Castiel can smell as much, but the scent is less fresh, less suffocating in here. He notices for the first time that he is still holding the disheveled robe, despite it being simply a tool for finding some time to himself. 

But…

The lock had clicked behind him and there was still that container. Castiel is torn between feeling deeply ashamed and deeply, deeply aroused. 

A particularly loud moan comes from the bedroom and Castiel’s erection throbs behind his zipper at the sound.

Alright, well, he can at least get in the shower.

Adjusting the knobs to a comfortably hot temperature and removing his pants, not without some difficulty, brings Castiel to finally step under the water. And _oh, God_ , it’s amazing. 

He lets the water wash over him for a moment, just basking in the feel of tension and dirt and sweat washing away. He lingers far longer than he should, probably, considering. He can’t help himself though, when the scent of Dean is everywhere and the water feels so good on his stiff muscles.

It’s a good twenty minutes before he turns off the water, and his erection is far from gone. He stares at the wall as if he can see through to the room beyond, where he knows Dean is writhing in need. He’s likely to have come already a few times by now, if Sam hasn’t sedated him, and Castiel almost feels dizzy with the way his blood rushes at the thought of Dean soaking his shirt in slick and sweat as he fucks himself on that flimsy knot. He briefly spares a thought for the knot Dean used the last time they were on the phone together; whether he still has it, whether he was using it right now, whether he might be able to fit both inside his…

_Fuck it_.

It seems that’s all his mind can think of anyway, so Castiel blindly grabs for the clinical looking container while pouring a little more of Dean’s shower gel in his hand.

He had been so beautiful. Castiel knows that even with just his own hand he isn’t likely to last very long when the image of Dean panting and moaning around that toy is burned into his eyelids. It’s like his brain won’t let him see the whole picture at once though, because Castiel’s mind’s eye navigates from a single drop of sweat traveling down the arch of Dean’s back to the smattering of freckles along his clavicle, to the way his pink tongue darts out to lick at his mouth. And _God_ his mouth. 

Castiel’s hand moves faster over himself, the scent of _Dean_ invading his nose as he leans down to watch his cock push through the slick tunnel of his own hand.

Would Dean be gentle? Castiel wasn't sure. The way he'd called Castiel Alpha, the way he'd said baby... Well Castiel kind of liked the challenge in Dean's eye all the time. It made him want to put him in his place. It made Castiel want to be an Alpha for him, so Dean could see he was cared for and wanted and so, _so_ desired.

Once they start, Castiel's thoughts can't seem to stop. What if Castiel _did_ put Dean in his place? And what if that place was in front of Castiel on his hands and knees, begging for him to fill his hole with Castiel's cock, for Castiel to mount him right then and there? What if Castiel made Dean ask nicely, what if he licked at where Dean was slick and wet for him until Dean was sobbing with the need? And then Castiel might tap his hole lightly, just to watch him squirm, and blow on the sensitive skin because Dean likes to be teased. 

And then maybe Castiel would make Dean turn around. "On your knees, sweetheart," Castiel would growl in Dean's ear. Dean would hasten to obey, because Castiel's Omega was a good boy for him. If Castiel were towering over Dean, would his tongue dart out to taste him on his lips? What if Castiel came down his throat, Dean swallowing around his length as Castiel knotted his mouth? Or what if Dean let Castiel come all over that pretty face? Castiel moaned at the thought, picturing the way his come would probably drip from Dean’s long eyelashes as he looked up at Castiel. _Cas_ , he’d sigh, licking those damned lips just to taste Castiel’s spend, just to have that bit of Castiel inside him. _Oh, God,_ he would be so beautiful...

“Fuck!” Castiel growls, attempting to keep the stupid container in place. “Fuck! Dean!”

He closes his eyes as his orgasm washes over him, shivering a little when it ends, his knot swelling at the base of his cock. He wraps fingers around it gently, hissing when the pleasure-pain of a second orgasm wracks him a little too soon. Still he holds the container steady and he can see he has almost filled it. 

That’s good. That’s for his Omega. For his Dean. To help him because he needs Castiel.

He ignores the ridiculous Alpha-speak in his head, for the most part, and rinses off quickly with cold water. Though it doesn’t make his knot go down completely, it helps things along so that it is not nearly as visible when he exits the bathroom in a towel.

Muffled sounds from the bedroom indicate Dean is still in the thick of it, so Castiel gingerly knocks on the door.

“D’you do it?” Sam asks instead of greeting him. Castiel bites his lip and hands over the sealed container wordlessly, cheeks burning. “Good,” Sam replies, shoulders sagging a little. “Not gonna lie, I’m not sure we’d make it through without it. I was about to sedate him, but I’m gonna see if this helps.”

“I should stay,” Castiel says, attempting to peer over Sam’s shoulder, but the doctor was already shaking his head.

“Nah, buddy,” he says. “Unless you’re gonna… y’know,” Sam makes a vague gesture with his hands and looks uncomfortable. “You should probably go. He won’t be tricked into letting you leave the next time, I don’t think.”

Castiel swallows down a whine, his heart racing at the thought of leaving Dean. He hesitates another moment, but the pheromones must not be as fresh as before because he is able to back away slowly.

“I’ll want updates,” he warns Sam as he begins to leave.

“And pants!” Sam nods, throwing Castiel some clothes.

The bundle turns out to be one of Dean’s Henley’s and a pair of sweatpants. _God_ , Castiel _just_ got off, but the smell of comforted Dean is etched into these clothes and it’s making him itch for some grooming or something.

“Okay, okay,” he says, when Sam lifts an eyebrow at him. He may have been scenting the sweatpants too long, he can’t be sure. “I’m going.”

And he does.

Castiel leaves the room as if in a trance, doing his best to stay disconnected lest thoughts of Dean, worry and arousal and guilty, take over.

He makes it home in less than an hour, sneaking out of the hotel by the unsupervised entrance of the parking. He has no idea what time it is or what day they even are, but he curls into his bed without a second thought for the outside world. A bone deep exhaustion pulls him under and into a dream of leather and spice and green, green eyes.


End file.
